


In No One's Shadow

by junko



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In fulfillment of anon's request on the Bleach Kink Meme: "So the pairing is Aizen/Rukia (don't shoot me, but they are my crack pairing) and I'm hoping for an AU fill.  What I hope to see in the fill is Aizen and Rukia developing a relationship while Rukia is still attending the academy before Rukia is adopted into the Kuchiki clan."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In No One's Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Note to the requester: This is more of a canon divergence than an alternate universe, because that's my preference. Also, the requester was probably hoping for more sexy-times, but I went with the romance. 
> 
> To other readers: my head canon is that Rukia and Renji came to Academy with the same surname, so don't be shocked by that.
> 
> Also, thanks has to go to Josey (cestus) for her usual plot idea bouncing, cheerleading, and typo-checking!

“I don’t like him,” Renji said where he sat, leaning against a tree in the Academy’s main quad. 

Rukia had convinced Renji to eat their lunch outside in the shade. Their first summer break was coming in a matter of weeks and the weather had turned hot—too hot to sit inside the stuffy mess hall filled with overly ripe zanjutsu students. 

In fact, Rukia was glad Renji was downwind or she’d be put off her food. She sort of was, anyway. Poking at her bento box, she more rearranged things than ate them. She frowned, trying to hold back the deep disappointment she felt at Renji’s reaction to her news. She finally had something positive happen academically, and all he could say was that?

It wasn’t fair. It’d been Rukia’s idea to come to Academy and Renji was the one excelling at it. Sometimes she resented him and his stupid elite classes. “You’re just jealous,” she muttered, moving the smoked salmon from one side of the tray to the other. “He’s a captain in the Gotei and he’s showing interest.”

“He’s a beast,” Renji said. The chestnut depths of his narrow eyes reflected red as he snarled.

“That’s the weirdest thing you could possibly say. You do know that, don’t you? Beast!? What does that even mean?” Rukia snapped, throwing a piece of braised burdock at him, knowing his Inuzuri instincts wouldn’t be able to leave food lying on the ground. 

Using his chopsticks, Renji picked up the root and flicked off as much of the dirt as he could, and then, giving her the stink eye, ate it. 

“It means I think he’s a beast,” he said. “I met him, remember? Me and Momo and Kira were all there that night that all the shit went down with the Hollows and Hisagi-senpai got injured. Both him and that creepy-ass lieutenant of his were there.”

Momo, Kira, ‘Hisagi-senpai’ Rukia grimaced to herself as she munched on a pickled radish. Renji even had friends. “You didn’t _meet_ him,” Rukia reminded him. “You were  rescued by him. That ought to count for something.”

Frowning, Renji chewed on an onigiri, rice dribbling down his chin. “What’s Aizen-taicho want with you, anyway?”

“He’s a kidō master. He thinks I have potential,” Rukia said, trying to hide the blush she felt creeping up her neck at the memory of Aizen’s words of praise. He’d said things like ‘real talent’ and ‘promise.’ No one had ever said words like that to Rukia at Academy.

When he didn’t say anything right away, Rukia was afraid Renji was quietly laughing at her. Looking up, she met his gaze, and it was intense and focused. 

“You do, Rukia. You have a lot of potential,” Renji agreed. “Aizen’s right. You were always the best at kidō. If he’s the best teacher, and sees it in you…? Yeah, maybe you should. I mean, an opportunity like that? You can’t waste it.”

Rukia nodded, a genuine smile forming on her lips. This was what she’d been expecting from Renji from the start. She’d been hoping his enthusiasm for school would push her to accept the offer, despite… despite her own misgivings. 

“But, you think he’s a beast. And, it’s the whole summer. At his house.”

And, they’d be alone. Rukia didn’t think Aizen had a wife.

Renji set his box down. He shook his head, making the crimson topknot bob comically, but his face was deeply serious. “Forget what I said. Kidō is a real talent of yours, Rukia. A personal tutor could be the boost you need. The push you need to get you up to speed.”

‘Up to speed.’ 

Renji thought she needed a tutor in order to stay in Academy, in order to graduate. 

And, maybe she did. She wasn’t doing all that well. Renji fit in so smoothly—or he bullied his way into people’s hearts somehow. But, she… she felt like she was always one step behind, like she was becoming a ghost. 

She’d been the strong one in Inuzuri, so certain of what she wanted. 

She wanted to be like that again.

“Yeah,” Rukia said, feeling determination swelling in her gut for the first time since resolving to leave Inuzuri to become a shinigami. “I’ll do it. It’ll be good for me.”

#

Rukia had never ridden in a palanquin before. It felt wildly rich and luxurious. With wide eyes, she stared out the window watching the rice paddies go by. Aizen apparently had a small estate somewhere in the mountainous border between the first and second districts in the north.

It was strange to be carried this way, by people who probably outranked her socially. Rukia felt especially awkward clutching the small bag of her meager possessions in her lap. She had almost nothing. After all, she and Renji had come up from Inuzuri without even shoes. Most of what she owned was technically the property of the Academy: a bathrobe, a toothbrush, a comb, an extra pair of socks, and sandals—all of them procured from the quartermaster. The only thing that was truly hers was a simple, ragged kimono she’d painstakingly washed and repaired. She almost hadn’t brought the thing. It was an embarrassment. Not even half as nice as her Academy uniform’s undershirt, but she had nothing else—nothing for any fine or fancy occasion.

What would she wear to dinner? 

She was supposed to dress for dinner at an estate, wasn’t she?

She had no idea. 

She wished Renji were here. Though, with a smile, she realized he’d never fit in this tiny box. His legs would be jammed up against his chest. He’d grown so much in those last years in Inuzuri and she swore he was still getting bigger. Either that, or she really was shrinking into his shadow.

Her fingers clutched at her bag. 

No, she told herself, she had to stop thinking like that: the point of this summer was to regain her confidence, become the shinigami she knew she could be.

Taking a steadying breath, she focused her eyes on the road ahead: her future.

#

Captain Sosūke Aizen took Rukia’s hand like a gentleman and helped her down from the palanquin stepping block. She felt her heart flutter a little with his touch, so warm and generous, like his smile.

It was the first time Rukia had seen the captain without his haori. Instead of the usual shinigami uniform, he was dressed in a deep forest green kimono with a golden diamond shapes woven throughout the fabric. His undershirts were complimentary yellows and light green. He looked stunning.

“I’m so glad you decided to come, Abarai-san,” Aizen said. The sun reflected off his glasses, hiding his eyes momentarily.

“Oh, please,” she said, “Just call me Rukia.” 

Her surname was awkward, anyway. It was the tag of an Inuzuri street gang, for crying out loud. Might as well call her Thief-san or Bruiser-san. But, when they’d come to the question on the application at Academy, she and Renji had no other family name to put down. Anyway, at the time it seemed like a fitting memorial for their friends who’d died.

Of course, now, whenever anyone heard her name, the first thing they asked was, ‘Oh, are you related to Renji?’ and then they’d instantly start in on some story about how he blew something up in kidō class or his recent wins in zanjutsu.

“I’d really rather just be Rukia, if you don’t mind,” she repeated a little more snappishly than she intended.

Aizen nodded. “I think I understand. Well then, Rukia, welcome to my home. I’m afraid my estate is rather humble. It’s really more of a secret hideaway than anything else.” 

The captain still held her hand lightly, steadying her as she got used to the steepness of the mountain terrain. He led her along a small dirt path that cut through a well-manicured garden nested in a shallow valley. A creek splashed over rocks and wound through the majestic mounds of hydrangea and azalea bushes. It was early morning and a misty steam rose above the stream’s path. Where the garden ended, a thick pine forest grew. Some distance away, near the peak of the clearing, she could see a single-story house with sloped roofs. Aizen might think it was modest, but it looked palatial to Rukia.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Has it been in your family long?”

Aizen laughed: a deep rich sound. “No. Though I did inherit it, in a way--it belonged to my former captain. When he… left the Soul Society, his property was seized. I bought it at auction for far less than its full value.”

Rukia frowned. Left? Property seized? It sounded like maybe Aizen’s former captain was some kind of criminal on the lam.

“There were hardly any bidders. You’ll see why once we’re inside,” Aizen said, his voice like a purr. “Shinji Hirako is a man of unusual taste. Symmetry is not his friend. You’ll not find a single straight line in the place, and some rooms are intentionally designed to baffle the eye, deliberately meant confuse the senses.”

“How can you stand to live in such a place?”

He smiled down at her and she realized with a sudden blush that they were still holding hands. “I’m fond of illusion,” he said, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “Besides, you’ll come to see its charm, I’m hope. After the initial moment of surprise, you start to understand why the eye is fooled and you begin see beyond the tricks to the truth. Soon, you anticipate and your mind becomes trained not to be manipulated by simple inversions and reversals. It’s good practice.”

Rukia’s eyes were wide. She got the sense that studying with Captain Aizen was going to really test her. Her smile grew braver. “I can’t wait to see it.”

#

The estate was small enough that Aizen only kept three servants in his household. They were an older married couple and their younger son, who together served as the gardener, cook, maid, valet, and everything else as needed. Aizen introduced Rukia to them and showed Rukia the path that led to a small cottage they kept a short distance into the wooded mountainside. Despite her best efforts, she forgot their names almost instantly.

The inside of the manor was a lot like Aizen said it would be—strangely disorienting. The main sitting room, for instance, was a typical open space with a single low table and za-button cushions spread around the tatami. But, there was something wrong with the fusuma panels. Rukia’s eye wanted the room to appear square, but instead some trick of the paint made it seem to fade off in some far distance, toward a door she was pretty certain couldn’t possibly lead anywhere.

“It’s a trompe l’oeil,” Aizen explained as he poured tea from the tray the young servant had brought them, “The door is actually a small window. The rest is nothing more than clever paint. Though, to be fair, the simplest illusions are often the most devastating. I still find my mind wanting to be fooled by it.”

Rukia took the tea bowl he offered with a slight bow. It smelled much richer than anything served at Academy, with undertones of something flower-like, “How long have you lived here, Taicho?”

“Over a hundred years,” he said, sounding vaguely amused by it all, “Though I spend most of my time at the Division, of course. This is hardly a convenient commute to the Seireitei. Without the Kimuras, my mountain getaway would be decrepit and overrun by the forest in no time.”

Rukia was stabbed by guilt. “I’m keeping you from your duties as captain!”

Aizen smiled around his tea bowl. “I have a very capable vice-captain, I assure you. Though, my division might find his personality a little… off-putting, they can survive him a little while. After all, Academy’s summer break is only a month long.” The captain sat seiza easily; Rukia tried, but her legs were getting numb. He set down the cup and said, almost disappointingly, “Besides, what do you imagine needs doing besides the paperwork? The Gotei hasn’t had a truly interesting enemy in centuries.”

“Interesting? What makes an interesting enemy?” Rukia wondered. 

Aizen tapped a long-boned finger against his temple, “Smarts. Hollows are dull-witted creatures. Brute-force is the best they can do. A good enemy is an intelligent one; someone even smarter than we are, perhaps.”

“You sound anxious for an enemy,” Rukia said. Finally giving in, she shifted her feet off to the side.

“Maybe I am,” Aizen admitted with a little laugh. “Soldiers aren’t bred for peacetime.”

Rukia nodded, but she suspected what the captain really wanted was a rival, someone or something to truly challenge him. He was clearly a deeply intelligent man, who chose to live in a place that constantly tested his mental faculties. Rukia suspected Aizen was the sort to start his day with a strong cup of tea and a Zen koan to puzzle over.

She smiled to herself at that image. She was going to learn a lot here, she was certain.

Aizen was a bit of a surprise. Rukia knew she would be getting a close look at someone far, far above the average, but Aizen was like the opposite of his trompe l’oeils; trying to be dull and unassuming in order to hide a brilliant core.

“But, why? Why would someone pretend to be less than they are?”

When Aizen blinked at her, Rukia covered her mouth. Shit! Had she said that out loud? 

“Uh, that is… you’re not quite what I expected,” she fumbled. To cover her embarrassment, she took a long sip of tea. 

Aizen watched her through his glasses, his brown eyes sharpening, like a hawk’s. Then, he seemed to shrug it off. “I suppose I have a rather dull reputation around campus? Your friends had nothing interesting to say about me?”

Renji was the only one who seemed at all put off by Aizen. Most people just knew the captain as a kidō expert. No one said anything bad about the Fifth Division or its captain. Some people did seem to find the lieutenant a bit creepy, but a lot of them shrugged Ichimaru off as ‘eccentric’ due to his being a prodigy. 

“People admire you,” Rukia said carefully. “But, no one seems to know anything about you really, like where you come from or your ambitions or anything like that.”

“My ambitions?” Something about that made him laugh. “Yes, it’s probably just as well the Academy’s student body isn’t speculating about my ambitions.” 

Rukia didn’t know what to say to that.

“And what about you, Rukia? What are your ambitions?”

Her hand curled into her hakama. “I want to be strong again, to know what I want and to go get it.”

Aizen raised his finely-sculpted eyebrows at that. “Your ambition is to be ambitious?”

It sounded foolish when he said it that way, but accurate. “Uh… basically?”

“I think we’ll get on famously,” he said with a warm, genuine smile that thrilled something deep in Rukia’s heart.

#

The captain spent the rest of their time explaining how things would go for the summer. They’d practice kidō in the morning, do a little zanjutsu sparring, and then the evening would be devoted to studying and memorizing kidō spells. She’d have free range in the massive library that occupied almost the entire west wing of the manor.

The only unusual thing about the library was its floor. It was made of some kind of reflective material that made it seem as if there was no floor at all—like you had to risk falling in order to cross the floor to reach any of the books. When Captain Aizen noticed Rukia’s hesitation, he gently reminded her, “You’re a shinigami. You could walk on air if you liked. If it bothers you too much, extend your senses until you can feel the reishi beneath your feet.”

Rukia felt foolish for her timidity. “You’re right, of course, Taicho.”

“I hope you will call me Sōsuke-sensei,” he said, as he paged through a book where he stood several steps further down the stacks. 

“Oh!” Even with the honorific, it seemed awfully informal for her to address someone of such prestige that way, but she nodded sincerely, “As you wish, Sōsuke-sensei.”

As if reading her mind, he said, “The intimacy is a perfect reflection of our roles as master and apprentice. This is not some stuffy classroom, Rukia. Your instruction will be personal, one-on-one. I will be your teacher in all things.”

Why did that prospect make her heart skip? She busied herself with looking through the volumes of spells, while secretly glancing at this enigma of a man who chose her as his protégée. Her, some worthless street rat from Inuzuri, without even a real family name—he’d picked her because he saw something in her.

“Why did you pick me, Sōsuke-sensei?” 

He turned and looked up from the book. “I chose you for your soul.”

“My soul?” Rukia felt a strange desire to cover her heart protectively with her hands. Instead, she pressed the book to her chest.

He noted her reaction with a little quirk of a smile, and then returned to perusing his book. “Yes, your soul. Truthfully, your colleague Hinamori Momo has a more dexterous command of kidō than anyone I’ve seen in a long time. She far surpasses you in technical skill. Kira Izuru, similarly, has a firm, steady hand and seems to instinctively grasp kidō basics the moment he’s confronted with them. But, they will only go as far as the books show them and they will be satisfied with that. Their souls don’t crave power. Yours does.”

Rukia never thought of herself that way, but as Aizen said it, she realized it was true… though she tended to believe that what her soul truly craved was to never be hungry or powerless again. It wasn’t power for power’s sake she desired, but she needed power for its safety, for its protection, for its defense.

Renji was the same way, Rukia knew. His kidō was laughable, more likely to damage himself than his opponent, but Rukia had seen him in zanjutsu. Renji strove to be the strongest for the same reasons—so he’d never be beaten again, never have to swallow the bitter taste of defeat, and so he could strike and kill first, rather than being laid low in the dust. 

The horrors and hunger of Inuzuri had sharpened the steel of their souls.

She set the book back on the shelf where she’d found it. “Teach me everything, Sōsuke-sensei,” she said. “I’m ready.”

“Yes, I know you are,” he smiled kindly. “And, we’ll begin in earnest tomorrow. Today, I want you just to become comfortable here, to make this place your home.”

#

As Rukia lay down to sleep that night, she was happier than she’d ever been in her whole life. Stretched out on a thick mattress, she stared up at the vaulted ceiling. The sleeping yukata she wore was far too big on her and smelled of Sōsuke-sensei. He had a complex scent that reminded Rukia of fallen leaves in the autumn and she breathed it in, wrapping her arms around the thick silk fabric.

When sensei had seen what little she had, he’d pulled the brown and silver robe from his own closets, telling her that he insisted because, despite the daytime summer heat, mountain night air was thin and cool and the manor walls were thin and drafty. Then, he sent the young servant boy to the nearest district with her measurements. By week’s end, she’d have a wardrobe of her own. When Rukia protested that she couldn’t pay for any of it, Sōsuke waved her off. It was, he said, his duty to provide for his apprentice.

Rolling over, she adjusted the nearby lantern. On the floor beside her bed, she had started a letter to Renji. He was spending the summer at Academy, doing grounds work in exchange for a bedroll. She’d promised to try to send news. He was sure to be bored already. 

Her writing was appalling, however. She barely knew enough kana to spell Renji’s name out. She was going to have to confess to sensei that her reading level wasn’t much better. 

Setting aside the letter for now, she summoned a Hell butterfly. Once it appeared, she spoke to it, “To Abarai Renji, Shinōreijutsuin, from Abarai Rukia, Aizen estate. Hey, Renji, I just wanted to let you know I arrived safely and that you were right: this is an opportunity of a lifetime. Also? Can I rub your nose in it a little? You’re probably stuck scrubbing the mess hall floor or trimming bushes right now, and I’m the personal apprentice of a captain of the Gotei Thirteen. Neener, neener, boo-boo! Ha! I’m finally doing something cool! Oh, hey, but, seriously, speaking of cool, I have to tell you about the captain’s estate, it’s totally bizarre, Renji. You wouldn’t believe the rooms in this place….”

Rukia talked until the butterfly looked overwhelmed and then she sent it on its way. Turning down the light, she fell asleep with a huge smile on her face.

#

 

The next morning, Sōsuke-sensei insisted on breakfast together on the veranda. Rukia dressed in her Academy uniform, but he was still wearing the robe he’d slept in—a simple chocolate brown yukata that matched his eyes. His hair was a morning jumble and one curl kept slipping down to fall over his nose. He kept having to take off his glasses to tuck it back into place. 

It was funny, Rukia thought, watching as he did it again. He should seem vulnerable without his glasses, but, somehow, he looked more confident and more… wolfish.

She wondered how well he could see without them. The glasses looked thick, but there was very little distortion around his face.

“I need tea,” Sōsuke admitted grumpily, re-adjusting his glasses. “I hate mornings.”

Rukia took the hint and checked the pot. The tea looked ready, so she poured Sōsuke a bowl first and then one for herself. While she did that, he lifted the cover off the baskets and started divvying up fish and pickles with the serving chopsticks. Each of them had their own bowl of rice porridge to which green tea had been added. It was a feast, and Rukia waited impatiently for Sōsuke to say grace over the meal. Once he did, she tucked in with gusto.

There was karashizuke, long eggplant pickled in mustard, and leek and potato miso. The fish was sun-dried anchovies, salty and crisp, which Rukia sprinkled on top of her rice porridge for an extra kick. 

“You sent a butterfly last night,” Sōsuke said around a mouthful of pickles, “To whom?”

Rukia suddenly wondered if she’d done something wrong. “Oh, um, I hope it’s okay? I have a friend who’s stuck at Academy for the summer and I’d promised to keep in touch. Only… uh, I’m not very good with my writing yet.”

Sōsuke nodded. “It’s fine. A butterfly is better than courier, anyway. I’d rather not have too much traffic to or from the estate.” He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “My secret getaway won’t be very secret otherwise, will it?”

“No, sensei,” Rukia said, a blush coloring her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t make too much of a habit of it. Anyway, why is your friend still at Academy when school is out? She decided not to go home to family?”

Rukia dropped her eyes in shame. “He doesn’t have any family besides me. We came to Academy together… from Inuzuri. Going back, well, it isn’t really an option.”

“Oh.” Sōsuke sipped tea for a moment. He frowned as if disappointed in his lapse. “Yes, I should have remembered. This must be Renji?”

Rukia nodded, sticking more fish in her mouth. She didn’t really want to talk about Renji, especially since Sōsuke would probably feel compelled to tell that same stupid story about the night of the Hollow attack. Although, it might be interesting from the captain’s point of view—maybe she’d finally hear a version where all the Academy students were pissing their hakama in fear, like it probably really went down.

Instead, Sōsuke’s smile was warmer as he asked, “How is it that your brother is so obviously from Inuzuri, when you are not? You have almost no accent. You could cut his with a knife.”

Rukia brightened. Spearing another eggplant with her chopsticks, she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Oh, I can sound rough when I want to!”

That wolfish look returned to Sōsuke’s face, “You can? Mmmm, I think I might like that.”

Boldly, Rukia said, “Well, maybe you’ll get to hear it sometime. Especially, if you take off your glasses and let your hair do that thing,” she mimed the corkscrew curl flopping over his nose with a swirl of her finger across her own face.

“Heh, cheeky,” Sōsuke said. Then, with a little wry glance, asked, “So you like me better without glass, do you?”

“I do. You look more… yourself, somehow.” 

“Is that so?” Sōsuke sounded deeply amused by her observation, and he smiled from behind his tea bowl. “You think you know me so well already?”

Rukia shrugged, picking up her porridge to shovel some into her mouth. “I guess I don’t. I think the look suits you somehow.” 

“Indeed? And I think you’re a very dangerous woman,” Sōsuke said with a little teasing grimace. “One I suspect I’m ill-equipped to face before tea.”

Rukia smiled to herself, amazed at how easy it was to flirt with her teacher. She probably shouldn’t, but he hadn’t told her to stop and he was awfully cute in the morning—all tousled and kind of owly.

Still giving her an appraising look, Sōsuke said, “Now that we’ve already sparred, I wonder: are you ready to show me what you can do this morning?”

Rukia nodded enthusiastically, “Hai!”

Standing up, he said, “I’ll get dressed. When you’re finished eating, I’ll meet you in the back garden.”

#

The back garden had clearly been used as a kidō range before. Its main feature was a twisted dead stump, burnt away by blasts of magic. As she waited, Rukia perched on what remained of the tree and looked around the grounds. Due to the steepness of the landscape, she could see where the elder servant trimmed and pruned hedges. The woman was at the nearby well, bringing up a bucket of water. She squinted at Rukia, seemingly disapprovingly, as she worked.

Rukia wondered what they thought of her—a young woman on her own at their master’s estate. Did they worry for her reputation? 

Should she?

Before she could decide, Sōskue came out from the back of the manor. He’d changed into the shihakushô of the shinigami, though he still went without his captain’s haori or his zanpakutō. The mountain air pulled at his hems, making them flutter. He was a dark shadow on the brilliant green landscape.

Rukia jumped up to greet him properly, with a low bow.

It was only when she came back up that Rukia realized that Sōsuke had removed his glasses. The piece of hair she found so cute was hanging free, too, and he’d done something to keep the rest away from his face. “What’s this?” she asked, thrilled, but also confused by the change. “Will you be able to see?”

He stood in front of Rukia and smiled down at her. He was close enough that she could catch that smell of him, the one she’d been wrapped up in all night. 

“I will,” he assured her. “At any rate, this is a test on a deeper level. I’ll probably have my eyes closed for most of it as you go through your kidō, to better sense what’s going on.” 

“Oh, of course,” Rukia breathed; he wouldn’t need to see her to sense her reiatsu. But, she couldn’t get over how hot Sōsuke looked like this. He was almost a different man, so much more… sexy.

“Ready yourself,” he said.

Rukia had to shake herself to break the spell his transformation had cast over her. With a deep breath, she concentrated on remembering her chants and starting to draw up the necessary reiatsu. She glanced over at the twisted tree trunk. “The stump is the target?”

“No,” he said, “I am.”

Rukia’s eyes were wide. She’d actually never used her kidō on another soul before. Academy didn’t allow it until the third year. 

At her horrified reaction, Sōsuke laughed lightly. In his new guise, his chuckle took on a slightly sinister cast, which was only reinforced when he said, “There’s no chance you’ll hurt or immobilize me. I expect to be able to counter anything that comes my way. If not, I clearly have nothing to teach.”

Nodding with determination, Rukia took up a stance. 

Sōsuke seemed to approve. He took several steps back and did the same. “Alright,” he said. “Begin.”

#

When Rukia had gone through everything she’d learned so far, she stopped. The sweat of exertion plastered her hair to her face and the silk of the uniform to her body. She was breathing hard, like she’d just run a marathon. 

Sōsuke was right, of course. She might as well have been aiming for the tree. Nothing touched him. Nothing even came close. He’d defended effortlessly, without ever chanting a single spell and at a level Rukia had never seen, even from the finest teachers at Academy.

Despite a sense of utter defeat, it was… surprisingly exhilarating facing an actual person, an opponent, an enemy. Sōsuke hadn’t held back just because she was a novice, either. Rukia was surprised how she could sense Sōsuke shifting and redirecting her magic. It’d been like a dance, an exciting freeform give and take--albeit a clumsy one on her part. But, even as crude as her attempts had been, Rukia could tell what a real kidō battle would be like… and her heart soared.

“Oh,” she moaned unthinkingly, “I want this. I want this so bad.”

Sōsuke laughed, deep and rich; Rukia suddenly realized how that must have sounded.

“Uh… I mean… that is,” Rukia stammered, blushing furiously.

“No,” Sōsuke said, coming closer. “Own your desire.”

Rukia looked up at those intense eyes, so much sharper when not hiding behind glasses, and thought: _Oh, how I wish I could_.

Instead, she ducked her head and said, “Yes, sensei.”

His fingers cupped her chin and gently directed her face back up. They stood close enough that Rukia could put her hands on Sōsuke’s chest, feel his heart beat under silk, but she didn’t dare. Instead, she held her breath, though the desire to lift up on her tiptoes to be closer to his lips overwhelmed her better judgment.

Sōsuke’s fingers stroked her face and he, too, seemed drawn forward.

Rukia thought they would kiss, but they both jumped away guiltily at the clearing of a throat. 

“A thousand pardons for the interruption, my lord,” said the old gardener. His cheeks were red from embarrassment, and he dipped into a bow so deep his head nearly hit his knees. “But, the lieutenant has arrived at the estate.”

“Gin? Why is he here?”

“He wouldn’t say, my lord.”

Sōsuke snorted in irritation. “Of course he wouldn’t.” Turning to Rukia, Sōsuke clasped her shoulder and said, “Please stay out here. Practice that last hadō or something. I’d… prefer to deal with Gin on my own.”

“Oh? And why’s that, I wonder. I ain’t hardly scary at all.” 

Rukia jumped at the voice right behind her, shaking off Sōsuke’s hand. She turned, Inuzuri instincts raising her fists. It was shocking how close the lieutenant was. She hadn’t sensed the other shinigami at all. His approach had not only been silent, but his reiatsu had been completely hidden somehow. 

Gin Ichimaru smiled at them. His eyes mere slits, like a fox’s, and that grin just a little too wide, almost alien. His hair shimmered in the sun like silver threads. Like Sōsuke, he was dressed in the uniform of the shinigami, but, unlike either of them, he was fully armed. Rukia had never seen anyone who carried a short sword, a wakizashi.

“You must admit, you do tend to scare the children,” Sōsuke said lightly.

“Me? I’m not the one wandering around without my mask on,” Gin purred. “Isn’t a bit early to be showing your true colors, Taicho?”

Rukia felt like a rabbit, trapped between two wolves. She lowered her fists. 

Her movement seemed to attract Gin’s attention and his smile curled up even higher, as if he was amused she thought she could fight him. “Wheels are turning,” Gin said to Sōsuke, though his focus stayed on Rukia, “A Kuchiki scout was spotted at Academy. Seems you was right, Taicho. They jumped at the bait.”

Sōsuke stepped up close behind Rukia and put both hands protectively on her narrow shoulders. Rukia could not only feel the heat of his body right behind her, but his reiatsu also swelled as though to put them both behind a shield. It was some kind of low level protection spell. One, Rukia sensed, ready to be increased at a moment’s notice. She glanced up at Sōsuke. Did he fear his lieutenant would attack her? 

“This is not urgent news, Gin,” Sōsuke said. “There was no need to come yourself. You could have sent a butterfly.”

“Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve,” Gin said, in a sing-song way. Then he shrugged, “But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see the pretty little lure with my own eyes, now would I? Well, well, I can’t say I can see what all the fuss is about. Seems pretty plain and uninteresting to me.”

“That’s because you’re not looking at the long game,” Sōsuke said mysteriously.

“Oh, but I am, Taicho, I am,” Gin said with that unreadable smirk. Then, he clapped his hands together, making Rukia jump again. “So! Do I get to stay for lunch or are you sending me to my room without any supper?”

“Go, Gin. You’ve had your fun,” Sōsuke said.

“Want me to run go tell the Kuchikis that you’ve stolen their prize?”

Sōsuke sighed. “You will, even if I tell you not to.”

“Aw, you know me so well,” Gin said, as though he’d been complimented. “I suppose it’d be especially inconvenient if they happened to find this little bolt hole of yours too, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” Sōsuke agreed. “Very.”

“Okay then!” Gin turned from them then and waved with long, skeletal fingers. “Bye-bye!”

After Gin had gone a ways down the mountainside, Sōsuke said dejectedly, “We’d best prepare for company.”

#  
Rukia turned the conversation over and over in her head as they walked back to the estate. She finally had to ask, “Who are the Kuchiki?”

Sōsuke glanced at her over his shoulder. They were nearly to the back door, so he stopped when they reached the porch. “The Kuchiki are a very powerful, well-connected noble family. Their current clan head is a captain in the Gotei. And he’s been looking for you.”

Rukia had a moment of panic. Why would a noble be interested in her? None of the yakuza she and Renji ever crossed were connected to royalty, were they? “Why me? What have I done to them?”

Sōsuke’s smile was deeply amused as he slid open the back door for her. “You sound guilty. Is there something in particular you’re worried about?”

“Ah…. no,” Rukia said quickly. Slipping out of her shoes, she ducked under his arm. “Though, I mean, you did say well-connected.”

Sōsuke frowned at her for a moment, and then burst out with a laugh. “Oh! Well, well, you just get more and more interesting, don’t you?” 

Rukia didn’t say anything. She kept her lips pressed together. 

Inside the kitchen, the hearth fire had been banked. Lunch had been set out on a long wooden counter. It was a number of cold plates: there were artfully arranged cut fresh vegetables and kamaboko, a kind of pressed white fish loaf, cut into slices and served with a number of dipping sauces. Everything was set out casually, like a buffet. Rukia presumed the servants had done so, in case they’d had to entertain the lieutenant as well.

“It would, I suppose, be possible for the Kuchiki to have such interests in Inuzuri,” Sōsuke said, shutting the door behind him. He knelt down near the center of the kitchen floor, and carefully lifted up a tile. From a small pantry recession in the floor, he pulled up a small bottle of sake. Setting it aside, he replaced the flooring. He glanced up at her from where he knelt. “After all, Byakuya had one rather major interest come from there, and I have long wondered how that happened. But, his family gives the impression of, shall we say, being more ‘honorable’ and above all that sort of thing.”

Rukia watched him get up and root through the cupboards until he found bowls. “If it’s not... anything to do with those types, what could a nobleman want with me?”

Pouring them each some sake, Sōsuke handed a bowl to Rukia. “Nothing useful. I believe what he wants is his wife back,” he said, taking a sip of his sake. Helping himself to a carrot stick, he munched it thoughtfully. “It seems you’re a dead ringer for the woman he once loved more than anything.”

A dead ringer for a dead woman? Great.

Rukia noticed that Sōsuke had no trouble finding anything without his glasses. She was pretty sure he didn’t need them at all. What had Gin said about a mask? Was he hiding a true identity for some reason? She wondered why.

Coming over to where Sōsuke leaned his backside against the kitchen counter, Rukia tried a slice of the kamaboko. It was very good, if a bit salty. She licked off the last of the taste from her fingers. “Does he think I’ll agree to…. marry him?”

“Well, he’s handsome, a captain, and astronomically rich. I suspect he thinks that’s enough to turn any head. Byakuya Kuchiki is a man very used to getting everything he wants,” Sōsuke said, reaching around her to take a radish from the veggie plate.

Rukia made a face, “Ugh.”

“Yes, that’s one of the reasons I sought to keep him from you.”

Rukia nodded. But, as gentlemanly as the sentiment was, Gin had very specifically used the word ‘bait.’ It also seemed very obvious that the lieutenant had been under orders to keep a lookout for the Kuchiki family scout, and possibly even prime the pump with information about where she was. Rukia was nobody’s fool. She was being used as a pawn in some bigger game--that much seemed obvious.

But, had the whole thing been a lie all along? Was Sōsuke only interested in her because Kuchiki was? 

She sighed into her sake. Rukia felt like such a silly little girl. She’d concocted this fantasy about being special… being loved. But, she was just an Inuzuri rat making up beautiful stories to obscure the ugliness of the truth. The same as always.

When she looked up again, Sōsuke was watching her, curiously. “You look sad, Rukia. Is something the matter?”

She plastered a smile onto her face. “No! I was…uh, just disappointed that we won’t get to practice swordsmanship!”

Sōsuke tipped his head at her, as if trying to see through her diversion. But, being unable to, he shrugged. “Well, if it’s important to you, I doubt the Kuchiki entourage will flash step here,” he said, setting his bowl down and standing up straighter. “We can certainly spar, if you like. I’m afraid the manor has only a small dojo—and it’s upside down—but, let me show it to you.”

#

Sōsuke wasn’t kidding. The dojo was completely upside down. The ceiling was flat and made of polished wood. Meanwhile, the floors were sharply angled and made of rough timber.

When she stepped in, half expecting it to be a trompe d’oeil, Rukia nearly tumbled into the steep crevasse. “How do you practice in this crazy place?”

“You have to use your ability to stand on reishi.” Demonstrating, Sōsuke bounced from the door, over to the far wall, where he pulled down two bokken. He tossed one of the wooden practice swords to her. “My former captain used to like to stand on the ceiling. I won’t expect you to master that trick just yet, though it’s not as difficult as it might seem. But, for now, we can spar in the air. Forcing yourself to constantly use your spiritual energy this way will hone your kidō fighting. Come, see if you can.”

Rukia struggled with it at first. She might have fared better if she were a better zanjutsu student, because, any time she felt pressed, she’d falter. The instant she’d take a jarring blow, she ended up bouncing off the walls and jammed into the floor’s point.

After only a little while, Sōsuke called for a halt. Rukia pulled herself up from the floor’s pit, rubbing her bruised elbow, dejectedly expecting a lecture about practicing the basics on her own for a while. Instead, Sōsuke seemed to be staring off in the distance, almost as if lost in thought. 

“Sensei?”

“Damn it,” he said. “His desire is even stronger than I thought. The bastard must have flashed the whole way. He’s come alone and he’s already to the mountain pass.”

“The Kuchiki?”

Sōsuke finally looked at her. “Yes. We should get cleaned up. We’re about to have a guest.”

#

Rukia wasn’t sure what she was expecting from a man looking for a replacement for his dead wife, but Byakuya Kuchiki was much younger than she thought he’d be… and far better looking. He was almost unrealistically handsome, his features seemingly carved from alabaster and obsidian.

He was cold as stone, too.

He had, so far, refused Sōsuke’s invitation inside, preferring instead to make them meet him in the garden. Byakuya was dressed like a noble rather than a captain, in some deep indigo kimono with several layers, a silver and jade necklace, as well as the kenseikan, like a crown in his long, black hair.

It was like he came intending to impress her with his wealth, and that made Rukia like him even less.

She stood beside Sōsuke, nestled against his side. She’d have hidden behind his shoulder, like a child, if he’d allowed it. Rukia would have liked a protection spell over them both again, too. Rukia could feel the powerful reiatsu flowing off this man, making the air around them feel heavy, as though trying to force her to her knees in his presence.

His eyes were seemly downcast, but Rukia could feel his intense and possessive gaze on her. It made the hairs on her neck prickle, and she huddled closer to Sōsuke. 

Sensing her shrinking from Byakuya, Sōsuke put a light hand on Rukia’s shoulder and said again, “You’re sure you won’t come in? Take refreshment? You must be tired rushing all the way here.”

Sōsuke had put on his glasses and rearranged his hair. It was a mask, Rukia decided, and one he preferred to show most people. She still wasn’t sure why, but maybe, if the other captains of the Gotei were like this, Sōsuke wanted them think he was mild and unassuming as a strategic advantage. Rukia knew the advantage of being underestimated. People did it to her all the time.

Byakuya’s lips were a thin line. “What are your terms, Sōsuke Aizen?”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Sōsuke said mildly, “Terms for what?”

Rukia could feel Byakuya’s gaze focus on her again. Then, he glanced away, down the valley. “Somehow you knew that we came to Academy in search of this young woman. We now find her secreted away, under your tutelage.”

Sōsuke squeezed Rukia’s shoulder congenially. “I asked Rukia to be my student because she has talent and drive. What is it you’re looking for again, Byakuya?”

Rukia could almost feel the waves of ice directed at Sōsuke from Byakuya’s eyes. “I sense you’re trying to misrepresent me, Sōsuke Aizen. Why?”

Sōsuke laughed one his bright laughs. Then, he shook his head, “To misrepresent you, Byakuya, I’d have to know what your interest in Rukia is, and the only thing I’m certain of is how much she looks like Hisana.”

Byakuya was silent again for a long time. He seemed to be struggling with something internally. Finally, he turned to her and said, “Rukia, you are my wife’s sister. As Hisana lay dying, she begged me to find you and protect you. I wish only to make good on my solemn vow.”

She had a sister? Someone actually related by blood?

Sōsuke seemed surprised by this news, as well. “Rukia is far too young to be Hisana’s twin.”

“They’re not twins,” Byakuya said. “Rukia came to the Soul Society as an infant. Hisana bore a great guilt when she found she couldn’t care for Rukia and abandoned her.”

“Your wife was a filthy little liar,” came Gin’s sing-song voice as he strolled up the path.

There was a tremendous reiatsu wave at nearly knocked Rukia to the ground. In fact, had Sōsuke not been holding on to her shoulder, she might have fainted.

Byakuya hissed, “You dare!”

“Calm down, Byakuya,” Sōsuke said, and Rukia suddenly noticed that Byakuya had reached for his zanpakutō. His hand stayed resting on the grip, and Sōsuke watched Byakuya carefully as he asked, “Gin, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Aw, come on, Taicho,” Gin drawled as he came up to stand on the other side of Rukia. “You can’t tell me you don’t see the holes in the lady’s story. Ain’t no one allowed to stay with their family when they pass through. Even if she and Rukia died together, the sorting woulda separated them. That’s how it’s done.” Gin smiled coldly and pointed a finger at Byakuya, “Your wife had a baby in Inuzuri and she was too ragged to keep it. Rukia ain’t her sister, she’s her daughter.”

If Byakuya was surprised by this news, he didn’t show it. His hand left his weapon and, he said, “It hardly matters which. I made a promise.”

“To protect another man’s baby? Ain’t you the gentleman,” Gin said.

“Gin, stop insulting my guest,” Sōsuke said harshly.

Gin bowed deeply. “A thousand pardons, Aizen-sama.”

Rukia’s head was spinning. Did she have a sister… or a mother? She had to admit the latter made at least as much sense as the former. But it was all too much. She sat down hard in the grass and covered her face.

Sōsuke knelt down beside her and arm encircling her shoulder. “We’ve been unthinking,” he said. “Rukia needs time to take this all in.”

“Very well,” Byakuya said. “There is a ryokan not far from here. I will stay there for the night. We will continue this discussion in the morning.”

In a swirl of silk, he was gone.

#

Sōsuke carried Rukia back to the manor and tucked her into her bed. Then, he brought tea and cakes and set them beside her mattress. Just before he slid her door shut, he said, “Let me know if you want to talk about anything.”

She nodded, but she didn’t trust herself to speak just yet. Her thoughts were still so much a jumble of conflicting emotions.

When the door closed, Rukia sat in the darkened room and tried to think. She had a sister or a mother once. That person married Byakuya and was now dead. Those were the facts. 

Also, apparently this person—Hisana was it?—had made her husband promise to try to find Rukia…and, what? 

Not apologize for having abandoned her, but to ask this stranger to protect her? From what? Rukia had done alright on her own in Inuzuri. No, fuck that, she’d gotten out of Inuzuri and made it to Academy and she’d dragged Renji up with her, too. That was no small feat.

Now Rukia was on her way to becoming something awesome: a shinigami. She’d done it all without anyone’s help, thank you very much.

Well, Renji had helped—a lot actually, particularly back in Inuzuri. She might be irritated with him now, but Renji had been there when times were lean, like a real family would. He’d never once abandoned her, no matter how tough things got.

How bad would it have had to be to leave a little baby? 

At least her mother/sister had been smart enough to abandon her in the care of the monks. Thanks to that clever thinking, Rukia had survived infancy and had been well cared for, all things considered. Rukia had been raised by a group of Shinto priests that moved from shrine to shrine throughout the Rukongai. She’d been fairly sheltered by them, her cadre of onii-san, until the yakuza in Inuzuri raided their caravan and tried to steal her away. She’d escaped the thugs and ran into Renji and his gang.

It hadn’t been such an awful life, in retrospect. 

In fact, Rukia was really proud of what she’d made of what she had.

It was really fucking presumptuous for this guy, Byakuya, to show up like this. Okay, so he wasn’t as creepy as Rukia first thought, but it was still kind of insulting, this promise he was trying to keep. Because it assumed weakness on her part, like she couldn’t make it otherwise.

Fuck that. She didn’t need anyone’s charity. Besides it was too little, too late. She could have used a hand up when they were starving. Now she had food in her belly and a good teacher.

And, maybe Sōsuke was playing her, but maybe it didn’t matter. Not if she could get what she needed from him. 

She would be her own woman, not stand in someone else’s shadow—not Renji’s and not Byakuya’s.

#

Rukia slept a little after that and she woke up to the sound of voices. It sounded like Sōsuke and Gin were arguing. She got up and crept closer to the door. 

“You’re losing your touch, Taicho,” Gin said, sounding very happy about the prospect. “That’s twice you miscalculated.”

“It’s because he came without his entourage. He would never have told Rukia about Hisana otherwise.”

“You just don’t want to admit that he could tell what kind of picture you were painting: a disgusting pervert looking for a look-a-like substitute wife. Now what’ca gonna do? The little prize knows the truth and it’s a lot more sympathetic.”

Rukia pushed open the door. “No, it’s not,” she said. 

Gin was leaning against the wall of the trompe d’oeil, his thin arms crossed in front of his bony chest. Sōsuke sat on the floor with a book in his lap, sipping tea. He stood up when she entered the room. “Rukia?”

“Byakuya isn’t any more sympathetic now that I know the true story,” she repeated. “I don’t want his protection. I want to be my own protection.”

Gin raised his silver eyebrows in surprise. “Oooh, a backbone! I like it.”

“As do I,” Sōsuke said. “But it’s no surprise to me. Rukia has steel in her soul. That’s why I chose her.”

And that was why she would stay.

#

Byakuya took the news better than she expected he would. The next morning, she went down to the inn on her own and explained things to him. “I don’t mean any disrespect,” she said when she was finished. “But I need to prove to myself that I can do this by myself, with my own strength.”

He nodded. “You’re so much like Hisana. I find I must respect your choices.”

“Thank you, Kuchiki-sama.”

Byakuya covered her hand with his own, and said, “No, call me Byakuya. Even if you refuse my family’s aegis, you’re still my wife’s kin. She wanted you to call me brother. I would still wish for this.”

It was touching, so Rukia agreed. “Okay, I’ll remember that.”

“Do. When you come to the Gotei, I may be able to find a place for you, if you want.” He stood up, so she quickly got to her feet as well. “You’re a remarkable woman, Rukia Abarai. I’m sure you will make the Gotei proud.”

She laughed, “I have to graduate first.”

“Aizen will not let you fail,” he said. “Nor, I imagine, will your pride. You would have made an excellent Kuchiki.”

She bowed low as he walked away.

#

Shunpō could have brought Rukia back to Sōsuke’s place in a matter of seconds, but it was an unusually moderate summer day and she decided to walk. Listening to the needles crunch beneath her sandals and the wind through the tall pines, Rukia felt like she’d made the right decision. 

She knew Sōsuke wasn’t being a hundred percent honest with her, but she wasn’t sure she cared. He wasn’t trying to stand in front of her. That was really important to her right now. If anything, Sōsuke was helping her stand on her own two feet. She didn’t need a protector, but she could use a teacher, a mentor.

Just ahead she saw a flash of silver bound through the underbrush—at first Rukia thought it must be an animal of some sort, like a fox. Suddenly, out from the shadows of the pines glided Gin Ichimaru. He waved to her as he approached, his usual sly grin plastered on his face. Rukia shivered. Something about him always reminded her of a snake.

“I was just coming to check on you, little raven,” he said with a little nod once they were in speaking range. “I take it the Kuchiki didn’t abduct you.”

“No,” she said, not feeling overly friendly to Gin.

Gin turned to walk beside her. Tucking his hands behind his back, he seemed to enjoy the mottled light that shone between the trees. He took a deep breath of the forest air. “You’ve decided to stay. Not the safest choice. Be careful,” he said, his voice unusually soft and unguarded, “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt, Rangiku.”

Rangiku? Gin had called her by the wrong name. Who was this woman? Someone he cared about? Someone Sōsuke had once hurt? She glanced at Gin. He didn’t seem to have realized his mistake, but, with Gin, it was impossible to tell. So, Rukia said, “I don’t want to be careful or protected from hurt. I want to feel everything—all the bumps, all the scrapes, and all of the heartache.”

“Mmmm,” Gin said, as though he didn’t quite approve, “Brave words, raven-chan. Just know there are monsters that even monsters fear.”

Then, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, Gin was gone.

#

Sōsuke was sitting on the veranda waiting for her, and when he saw her coming up the winding path he stood up and came to meet her. He’d dropped his mask again, and he looked like a wolf—fierce and intelligent and deadly.

And she ran into his arms.

#

The summer passed quickly. Rukia grew stronger with each passing day, their sparring sessions becoming a true dance of equals. Now, Rukia felt that the next level would feel like an even more intimate dance, like sex.

The evenings Rukia spent wrapped up in Aizen’s scent, sitting in his lap or laying beside him on the floor, as he taught her to better read and write using secret spell books she’d never seen before.

By the time she was ready to head back to Academy, she knew more kidō than some of the Kidō Corps students.

On their last day together, Rukia and Sōsuke stood on the veranda. The air was turning colder and she was happy for the new kimono with its many layers, as it kept out the chill. Sōsuke was still tousled and under-caffeinated, and he blinked at her sleepily as they leaned on the porch railing and watched the palanquin make its way towards the estate. 

“I’ll miss you,” he admitted. “You’ve been a good sparring partner.”

Partner.

No longer student, but partner.

Boldly, Rukia leaned into him and kissed him. She tasted tea on his lips, and when surprise opened his mouth, she boldly thrust in her tongue. He seemed uncertain what to do, so she led his tongue around on a dance, like their kidō matches. Smiling against her mouth, he turned toward her and began to respond in kind, quickly capturing the lead.  
His arms encircled her, and Rukia let herself be taken in and surrounding by his power.

Her hands reached up, as they’d longed to do from the first day, and pressed against his chest. She slid fingers under silk and felt for the beat of his heart. It was there, quickening under her touch.

So, she thought happily to herself: this is no lie. 

There might be masks and plans and layers, but his body was honest and true.

She pulled herself from him with effort, her eyes shining up at him, she asked, “What about next summer?”

He laughed lightly, “By next summer, you’ll be graduated. Then the captains of the Gotei will be fighting over who gets to have you in their division.”

“And will you win?”

“I always win, Rukia Abarai. I always win.”

**Author's Note:**

> What's fun about AU-divergences is imagining what comes next. If I wasn't already committed to writing all the ByaRen things, I'd be tempted to see how all this played out. Would Rukia be in on Aizen's plans? How would that change with Ichigo? What about Renji? If Byakuya doesn't become is rival/goal, would Aizen? There's just so much here!


End file.
